


i feel like i could fly with the boy on the moon

by fallenhurricane



Series: Malec Playlist [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, M/M, Mundane Alec Lightwood, Mundane Magnus Bane, and they like each other how embarrassing, magnus and alec are the same age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenhurricane/pseuds/fallenhurricane
Summary: Alec has lost count of how many times it’s happened now. He knows that sometimes Magnus’s words weave their way into his heart and seem reluctant to leave. He knows that every time Magnus touches him he files away the feeling it gives him, one of warmth, comfort, safety. He knows that while he can take days to answer a text from Izzy, or Jace, or even his own mother, Magnus gets a response within minutes. He knows that he would do anything for him. He doesn’t know what love is -- it’s too soon for that, he thinks. But he knows what like is.And so it happens, as it was always bound to, eventually. Alec has never been good at talking about his feelings, but he’s even worse at keeping them bundled inside.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Malec Playlist [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757935
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	i feel like i could fly with the boy on the moon

**Author's Note:**

> So in case you couldn't tell, this series is basically a group of Malec one shots inspired by various songs. 
> 
> This time it's Carly Rae Jepsen!

Who gave you eyes like that, said you could keep them?  
I dunno how to act or if I should be leavin'  
I'm running outta time, going outta my mind  
I need to tell you something  
  
-Carly Rae Jepsen, "I Really Like You"  
  


Alec first notices it when he and Magnus are in the dining hall on campus. It’s not their usual place for lunch, but Alec has just come from a stressful midterm exam, and Magnus has some extra meal swipes, so it’s his treat. He grins as he gives his student ID to the woman at the front of the dining hall and tells her that Alec is his guest. The woman quirks a smile. 

“Be sure he follows the rules,” she says, handing his ID back. 

Magnus takes it with a laugh and tucks it in his pocket. “He’ll be my responsibility,” he replies. Alec’s cheeks burn and he readjusts the backpack strap digging into his shoulder. Of course, his stomach decides that’s the perfect time to let out a thundering growl. Magnus laughs again and grabs his hand, tugging him forward, and Alec’s fingers instinctively clasp around his. “C’mon, Alexander. We need to get some food in you.”

The dining hall is emptier than it normally is this time of day, according to Magnus. Perks of it being midterm season, and everyone being camped out in the library. As they walk through the hall in search of sustenance, Alec spots some fettuccine alfredo in a large tray and his mouth waters. He slows a smidge and Magnus realizes, releasing his hand. Which wasn’t necessarily what Alec wanted -- his palm felt strangely cool now, too empty and lonely. But as Magnus pushes him towards the pasta, he shoves that thought to the back of his mind. 

* * *

The second time Alec notices it, it’s a bit harder to forget. Magnus is sprawled on his stomach atop a blanket in the grass, a hefty book under his nose. He twirls a strand of hair mindlessly around a finger and kicks his feet lazily behind him. Alec sits cross-legged next to him, a pile of math notebooks in his lap, but his work goes untouched. The miniscule amount of space between his knee and Magnus’s shoulder feels electric and he feels the temptation to reach out and touch. 

Magnus stretches, yawning, and his shirt rides up his back the smallest amount. And Alec’s inhale is a little too quick, a little too sudden, and he starts sputtering and coughing. Magnus rises up on his knees in concern.  
  
“Are you okay?”

Alec nods, eyes beginning to water. He reaches for his cup of lemonade and downs half of it. When he sets it down, Magnus is watching him with wide eyes. 

“Yeah,” Alec says. “It’s just… allergies.”

* * *

The third time makes Alec feel like he’s back in elementary school. They’re in his apartment, standing in the kitchen, baking brownies, and Alec can’t help but feel like he’s playing house.

“You’re almost out of vanilla extract,” Magnus says, pulling the small bottle out of the cupboard. They’re long past the point of him needing to ask where Alec keeps pretty much anything in his apartment, especially the kitchen. “How do you even use that much vanilla extract? I don’t think I’ve ever finished a bottle.”

Alec shrugs as Magnus hands him the bottle. He pretends he doesn’t brush his fingers along Magnus’s on purpose. “I make a lot of vanilla crescents, I guess.” He measures out a teaspoon of the extract and adds it to the batter in front of him. Magnus is leaning his chin onto his palm, watching Alec with a small smile. “What?” 

Magnus hums. “Nothing.” Alec raises an eyebrow at him, and he snorts. “Okay, I just didn’t know you bake so much.”

“You’ve been in my kitchen hundreds of times,” Alec retorts. “You’ve seen everything in the cupboards, including both my stand and hand mixer, and all my pans. I made you your birthday cake last year.” 

“And it was delicious.”

“Damn right it was.” 

Magnus giggles, reaching past him to get the glass jar of flour, and Alec smiles. “We should bake together more often,” Magnus says. He bumps their shoulders together, popping open the canister. 

Alec hands him a measuring cup. “We should.” 

And it lingers in the air and settles on Alec’s shoulders -- the feeling that Magnus wanted to be around him even more; the feeling that they were making plans that felt domestic; the feeling that _this_ could be the unspoken _that_. 

* * *

Alec has lost count of how many times it’s happened now. He knows that sometimes Magnus’s words weave their way into his heart and seem reluctant to leave. He knows that every time Magnus touches him -- a friendly pat on the shoulder, a hand raised to fix an out of place strand of hair falling into Alec’s eyes, a hug as they part ways after a particularly long day -- he files away the feeling it gives him, one of warmth, comfort, safety. He knows that while he can take days to answer a text from Izzy, or Jace, or even his own mother, Magnus gets a response within minutes. He knows that he would do anything for him. He doesn’t know what love is -- it’s too soon for that, he thinks. But he knows what like is. 

And so it happens, as it was always bound to, eventually. Alec has never been good at talking about his feelings, but he’s even worse at keeping them bundled inside. 

It’s a Friday night and Magnus’s living room glows with fairy lights hung from the ceiling, the TV playing _Shazam!_ , and lights from the city trickling in through the window. There’s a warmth in Alec’s chest as he watches Magnus watch the movie, his eyes lit up, crinkled with laughter, his mouth turned up in an amused smile. There’s a warmth in his thighs, where Magnus’s socked feet lie over them, crossed at the ankle. There’s a warmth in his stomach as Magnus laughs, the sound tickling his eardrums, soft and gentle. 

The words hurtle out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

“I need to tell you something.” 

Magnus’s eyes drift to his, his grin still in place. And _god_ if he doesn’t look beautiful. His hair has fallen slightly from its normal height, but his eyeliner is still perfect, and the lights above them sparkle in his eyes. Alec realizes mid-stare that he’s waiting for him to continue. He rests a hand on Magnus’s ankle, feeling the skin exposed between his sock and the hem of his jeans. He draws a line with his thumb and notices how Magnus’s toes curl, foot tensing. Somehow, it gives him a little bit of courage.

“I like you.” 

His voice cracks slightly, betraying his nerves, but he ignores it. When Magnus doesn’t respond except to gape a little, Alec throws all caution to the wind.

“I really, really, really, really, really, _really_ like you.”

The feet in his lap disappear in an instant, and before he can realize what’s happening, he’s being pressed against his corner of the sofa, a hand on his shoulder and another bracketing his head. Magnus’s face dances mere inches in front of him, eyes scanning his, and when Alec nods minutely, Magnus leans in. The kiss is soft and gentle, hardly more than a touch of the lips, but every one of Alec’s nerves feels like aflame. He tilts his head, and Magnus follows, a hand coming up to clutch Alec’s neck. Alec’s hands leap into action, one gripping Magnus’s waist, and another his bicep. They part and Alec can feel his face reddening, but Magnus settles down right next to him, staring at him in wonder.

“In case you couldn’t tell,” Magnus says, a little short of breath, and Alec laughs lightly, “I really, really, really, really, really, really like you, too, Alexander.”

  
  



End file.
